My Neighbor Nayoung

Her name was Kim Nayoung. I don’t think I ever met anyone whose name still sticks with me for this long — almost 20 years. Somehow in my foggy childhood memories, she is still somewhat so vivid.

Not long after the previous neighbor, Mr. Kim, moved away from the house next door, a Korean family moved into that house. A family of four; a couple with two children, an older boy and a younger girl. My domestic helper (who was always very up to date to the happenings around my neighborhood, bless her) informed us about the new family just a few days after they settled in. “Good news for you, Ghea!” she said cheerfully, “They have a girl just around your age. I think you both will get along well.”

Oh, neat! A new friend to play with! I hope she likes playing badminton and Barbie dolls as much as I do. I wonder what’s her name?

“Nayoung Kim,” our domestic helper told me without me having to ask her that. Her network was astounding. I’ve always wanted to be able to do it like her. For some reason, that conversation is still fresh in my mind.

Unfortunately, there's not much I can recall about how she looked like. All I remember is that she's taller than me (but lets be real here, everyone else has always been taller than me) and that she had a long, straight black hair that passed her shoulders. I remembered wanting a hair like that, since I found my wavy, slightly thicker hair more difficult to handle.

I never knew how we became friends, honestly. It just sort of...happened? I guess it was my domestic helper’s (her name was Mbak Yati, FYI. I’ll refer her by that from now on) doing; ‘match-making’ us one sunny afternoon. Whenever she saw Nayoung out on her terrace, Mbak Yati would usher me out and tell me to ask her to play with me. And so I did. And that’s probably how we became friends.

We’d play badminton in front of our houses, sometimes her driver and Mbak Yati would tag along too. We’d play against each other; our own little mixed-double tournament. Sometimes we’d play house at her place since she had the more sophisticated toys; she had a doll house, one of those Luvabella baby dolls complete with its accessories, vast collection of Barbie dolls, and other toys that I couldn’t find in Bandung. Language was a barrier for us — we both barely spoke English and she could speak limited Indonesian — but during those moments playing together, it was never a problem. We bonded in our very own special way. And I still cherish it to this day.

I would always invite her to my birthday party every year, but she would always decline because of school. Understandable, since my birthday party was always held on a school day. She went to an international school which could be pretty hectic. She would go back way after they party’s over. But she never forgot about it. Even though she never attended any of my birthday parties, she would still get me a birthday present. Though...I never knew when her birthday was. She never told me, and I never asked. Stupid on my part.

Just as sudden as her family moved in, her family suddenly moved away. I went home from school finding the house next door unusually quiet. Her house was alway pretty quiet anyway, but that day....was different.

“They moved out today,” Mbak Yati told me after I got changed. Turned out her dad got transferred to Jakarta and they left that day when I was in school. “Before they left, Nayoung wanted me to give you this,” Mbak Yati then gave me a decorated paper bag. Inside was a Pucca pillow, Nayoung farewell gift to me. There wasn’t a card. She never told me she was leaving. We never even said our goodbyes. I kept that pillow for another 10 plus years before I moved to Malaysia. Slept with it next to me, the only thing to remember her by.

Almost 20 years on, she is still in the back of my mind. Wonder if she still thinks of me all of these years, just like how I still think of her; if she still likes playing badminton; if she keeps her hair long or not; if whatever we shared during our childhood was precious to her. Nayoung, I hope you’re doing well wherever you are right now. And know that your childhood friend from Bandung misses you.